


who knew the stork still made house-calls

by le2biian (ClockworkDinosaur)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Baby!Dirk, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Loose Interpretation of Adoption Laws, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, POV Dave Strider, POV Second Person, Parenthood, References to the Alpha Timeline, Trolls on Earth (Homestuck), everyone talks so much for so long it's unreal, on god we're gonna get this boy a loving family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:26:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23654572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkDinosaur/pseuds/le2biian
Summary: Your name is Dave Strider-Vantas, and you just found a baby on your doorstep. What will you do?
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 38
Kudos: 525





	who knew the stork still made house-calls

**Author's Note:**

> if you know anything about the law Please do not tell me i do not care, this is so self indulgent and toothrottingly soft i don't have time for logistics. i also barely know anything about raising a kid considering i don't have any but i am the oldest sibling so i know like, baby basics. but none of this is The Point, the point is i want dirk to be raised by a loving family and goddammit i'll make it happen
> 
> it's been a while since i've written anything this long, let alone something i'm proud of; i hope it's as enjoyable to read as it was for me to write :D
> 
> working title: it's free baby

So there's a kid on your doorstep. You don't know shit about babies but it's probably around eight months old, give or take. Whatever the age is where babies start to stare unsettlingly from round faces not yet set into any identifiable features. At least, not identifiable to you, a man who has only seen a troll infant in all of her insectoid glory in the past few years.

The baby is wrapped in a garish orange blanket that matches the eyes that stare unabashedly at your bedraggled self.

You stare back. The baby makes a weird grunting sound at you that your lagging brain interprets as  _ sup _ ?

"Hey, uh… Karkat?" you call back. "Did you order somethin' on Amazon recently?"

"Fuck Amazon," comes a hoarse, annoyed reply from the kitchen. "No, wh- what the fuck?"

He's behind you quickly and nudges you out of the way to kneel next to the kid. He passes you a note tucked into the baby carrier and picks the kid up to check for injuries or anything else identifying the child. 

Something about the way he picks the kid up so carefully, his grating voice quiet and kind, makes you feel soft as fuck. You tear your eyes away and read the note.

_ You're the only ones who can take care of Dirk _ , says the note. Okay. That's Dirk. Someone decided to pass this kid named Dirk off on you, a B-list producer, and Karkat, a troll film writer with a decade's worth of romantic comedy Oscars under his belt, with full confidence. Maybe the fact that your house, though on the outskirts of town and "decorated artfully" as the kinder critics would say, was opulent and comfortably sized had a hand in that decision. 

"Do we… call the police? Or a hospital? Jesus Christ has this kid been  _ vaccinated _ ?"

"Dave," Karkat says sharply. "Calm the fuck down."

"Don't cuss in front of the kid!"

Karkat looks at you incredulously. "His thinksponge is still new and he doesn't know words. I think I can say fuck as much as I want in this situation."

"He _ is _ like a sponge, pickin' up all these words we put down," you ramble absently as Dirk starts staring at you again. His gaze has gone from unsettling to something like curiosity.

"Let's just get him inside," Karkat says, and gently hands you the kid. He's so much lighter than you expected, so small and soft and breakable-

Dirk rests his head against your chest and you hold him closer.

Oh fuck.

"Hey Rose, how's it hangin'?" you say as Dirk makes it his personal mission to cover your shades in hundreds of tiny fingerprints. 

"It's hanging," your sister responds dryly. A tiny voice on her end makes a demand you can't hear and Rose sounds distant for a moment. "Vrissy, go find Mama. Go find Mama and tell her I said yes to whatever it is you're going to ask. Ah, the joys of motherhood. What was it you needed, Dave?"

"It's relevant," you say tightly. Dirk is trying to grab your phone.

"Relevant to what, specifically?"

You take a deep breath. "I woke up this morning and found a kid on the doorstep. A human kid, younger than Vris I'd say? He's not walking or talking, for sure. Actually maybe he could move around but I'm not about to let him loose who knows what he'd get into. He's just… a baby. Seems healthy and all."

Rose is silent. You press on.

"And like, I don't really know what to do, Karkat's on the phone with Terezi to figure out what we can do legally on both the human and troll side of things, what our options are. But right now I think we need help? Maybe?"

Rose began laughing softly. "Dave, what the fuck."

"That's what Karkat said."

"Kanaya, Vrissy, and I are on the way. Stay calm."

"I'm always calm."

"Undoubtedly," Rose deadpans. "I'm going to bring over what I can in the short term."

"Thanks," you say. "See ya soon."

As soon as you hang up, Dirk starts making a sad quiet noise that terrifies you. 

"Hey, lil man it's alright," you say as you begin walking back and forth. "This situation is weird as f- weird as heck, I know. You had someone else caring for you up until now and I'm not that person which is probably freakin' you out a bit and I won't deny that I'm also kinda freaking out but I promise you're gonna be alright, shit's gonna be smooth sailin'- goddammit I mean-"

"He still can't understand you," Karkat says softly. He's watching you pace with a small smile.

"If we're not careful he'll be cursing like a sailor by kindergarten," you laugh, and then freeze. "Assuming we both decide wholeheartedly to adopt him, and I know that's a decision we have to think on for a long-ass while and discuss," you add in a rush. 

"Of course," Karkat says with a nod. But his gaze falls on Dirk and his face takes on a misty sort of expression and you know in your bones that the two of you are on the same page.

Rose shows up, wife and daughter in tow, not half an hour after your call. Vrissy runs off almost immediately to find something to get into with Kanaya at her heels. Karkat, ever the doting uncle, follows them both and leaves you with Rose.

"A baby on the doorstep. How disgustingly stereotypical," she says. Dirk watches her closely from your arms. Aside from brief periods of time where he decided he wanted Karkat instead, he had stayed in your arms all morning.

"It's a Hallmark picture of a situation," you say with a nervous laugh. "I'm freaking out less than I should be, I think. Like this is beyond wild, I don't think Karkat and I really ever thought about kids, not in the way that we're against it I think, just that it never came up y'know? And this definitely isn't a situation anyone could expect. But…"

You look at Dirk again and his oddly orange eyes meet yours.

"I get it," Rose says gently. "When Kanaya found Vrissy in the caverns and brought her home,  _ 'just to make sure she would survive on her own' _ she insisted, I knew."

She looks fondly into the distance, as if gazing through walls to where her wife and daughter were deeper in the house.

"We are far from the abused and orphaned children we once were, or the roving band teens that nearly tore each other and ourselves apart. Kanaya and I, Karkat and you, we made it out as well as we could and built ourselves futures we never would have dreamed. And every day I worry, am I doing right by Vrissy? Will I slip into the darkness my dearly departed mother threw herself into? And then I look at Vris and I know who I am. How far we've all come."

She shakes her head as if to clear it, her eyes focusing on you and Dirk. You don't trust yourself to speak and find yourself staring at Dirk again. 

Your upbringing was far from idyllic. Abused for thirteen years until your guardian died suddenly and left you in the foster house shuffle alone until a woman claimed you as her son, a woman with a daughter and a well disguised drinking problem. Genetic family you were kept hidden from. It was marginally better in that the woman did not beat you within an inch of your life on a near daily basis, and her death just after you and Rose turned eighteen didn't hit either of you as hard as it should have.

Sufficient to say that you never had a guardian to look up to.

Dirk babbles a few syllables at you. Could you be someone to look up to? You still carry so much fear in you, so many barriers that, while rarely needed, waited as if spring loaded to jump in to separate you from the rest of the world. You carried so much more than that now though, decades of adult experience and enough therapy to float a small country for a year.

And you know who you are. You are Dave Strider-Vantas, doing his goddamn best and thriving to spite your early years.

You think about foster care again. Of Dirk in foster care. It was truly not that bad with the families you stayed with, just crushingly lonely. You don't want Dirk to feel so alone.

You nod, and Rose puts a hand on your shoulder.

"I know who I am too," you say eventually, and your voice does not shake.

"The Lalonde-Maryams are settled in the guest room," Karkat says warily.

"And Dirk's fast asleep in the folding crib," you say with a nod toward the corner of the room. He breathes steadily with his legs covered by the orange blanket he refused to be without. You're sitting on the bed as casually as possible but your shoulders feel tense and stiff. Taking care of Dirk, even trading off with Karkat when you needed time, had been far more tiring than you could have ever anticipated.

"Are you okay?" Karkat asks as he sits next to you. He looks equally tired as he rests his head on your shoulder. The weight and warmth seems to seep into you and you can't help your contented sigh.

"I'm fine. I'm great, actually," you say. "You?"

"Tired as hell. Dirk spit up on me and me only I guess," he grumbled, but he was smiling all the while. "Dave, I think we should…"

"Keep him?"

"Of fucking course."

"I mean, yeah obviously. I know it's only been a day and there's so much we're gonna have to figure out and rearrange and change drastically for… roughly forever, but-"

"But I can't imagine not changing now," Karkat says. "I can't imagine giving him up, going back to how things were literally fucking yesterday while knowing Dirk was out there."

"Exactly," you say, and wrap your arms around Karkat as you fall backwards onto the pillows. You're too bone-tired to consider getting under the blankets.

"I love you," Karkat says as he nestles as close as possible. 

"Love you too," you say, and even as your heart thuds against your ribcage in the nervous anticipation of change, you fall quickly into a deep sleep.

An hour and a half later, Dirk begins to cry.

"Ah fuck," Karkat says.

Dirk, you're distressed to find, is an early riser. He slept through the night for the most part and you're thankful for that, but even as the responsible adult that you are, you rarely wake up before eleven. 

You look to the crib in the corner to see that Dirk is sitting up. He's watching you with eyes that threaten to well up with tears again and you tear yourself from the warm arms of your husband to pick Dirk up. Looks like you're on diaper duty first today.

Karkat wakes up soon after Dirk is all changed. You put him in an old shirt of Vrissy's, one of the few baby clothes that Rose found that would fit a human. You're glad it has just two arm holes as opposed to the multiple it would take to fit a troll grub pre-molt.

"You missed all the fun," you say as Karkat shuffles past you and into the kitchen. He tries to glare but his expression is still softened by the presence of Dirk. While he makes his coffee, you carefully prepare the baby formula. It's quite a task when you're also holding the baby.

"You can leave him in his crib for a moment, you know," Kanaya says as she glides in. 

"And leave him all alone? I think the f- I think not," you say.

"You can say fuck around the children, Dave," she says with a laugh. You glare at hers and Karkat's smug expressions.

You take the lukewarm formula and hand the bottle to Dirk, who needs no help or prompting to begin chugging. 

Kanaya coos over him as he drinks, and he barely spares her a glance.

"I'm not an expert on human children," she admits, "but he seems to be less than a year old. Perhaps seven months? He's at the stage equivalent to a troll after the first molt."

"We'll have to take him to a human pediatrician to know for sure," Karkat says. "Terezi is stopping by later to get the legal ball rolling which can't take too long. It's not like we can return Dirk anywhere and we both agreed that here is the best place for him."

"Ag," Dirk says. He seems content as he throws his now-empty bottle to the floor.

Kanaya smiles softly. "Congratulations, you two. I don't know how the world will cope with yet another Strider-Vantas but I trust you both will raise him right."

"We'll damn sure try," you say.

Dirk looks between you and Kanaya as if feeling bored of the conversation. He wiggles and reaches for Karkat, who seems to melt.

"Mama!" comes a small, demanding voice. 

"In here, love," Kanaya calls.

Vrissy, Vriska legally and with all the appearance of her namesake but called Vrissy by all who know and love her, wanders into the kitchen. 

"Poptarts?" she asks, looking around at you and Karkat and Kanaya. She is not unfamiliar with your house, you and Karkat have babysat in the past, and she knows you stock the goods.

"Right this way, kid," you say, and you help her up to sit on the countertop. Kanaya tuts disapprovingly but this is your house, countertops are free seat real estate thank you very much. You hand her a foil wrapped pouch of goodness- Wildberry, naturally- and she rips into it with gusto.

You aren't bad with kids, you figure. Vrissy likes you enough, and maybe you're too casual with rules but you keep a close eye on her and she always went home happy and unharmed. You've watched Karkat with her too, how quickly he improvised an activity when Vrissy got bored.

Raising Dirk is a different level from babysitting for sure, but you watch Dirk attempt to climb up for a closer look at Karkat's horns as Karkat laughs and holds him so carefully, and you feel like everything will be okay.

"So  _ legally _ ," Terezi says, "Babies are not included under finders-keepers laws."

"That sounds extremely fucking made up," Karkat says.

"I concede to the fictionality of  _ finders-keepers _ laws specifically, but I'm still right. Finding a baby doesn't automatically make it yours. There are  _ processes  _ and  _ procedures. _ "

Terezi is taking up your whole couch somehow, her presence so bombastic and present that it's almost overwhelming to be near her.

Or maybe you just feel small because you are currently sitting on your living room floor as Dirk toddles around you clumsily. Karkat, ever the adult, sits across from Terezi on an armchair, glaring at papers and occasionally tapping the tablet she brought along.

You are afraid, admittedly. If the law says Dirk has to be processed through the adoption system there's not much you or a formidable lawyer like Terezi can do. 

"However! I know you two, and I know the law like the back of my hand. The law is… malleable. Not saying I'm going to do anything illegal for you chumps but I know how to get what I need!" 

Terezi grins. You and Karkat share an unsettled look.

"I don't want this to be an illegal thing we have to keep watching over our shoulders about for the rest of our lives," you say. "That's a stress hanging over us forever that we don't need."

Terezi taps her claws on her red glasses. "Dave, how long have you known me?" she asks, voice sickly sweet like the nectar of a venus fly trap. 

"Coming up on twenty years now, why?" you say hesitantly. 

"A very long time, wouldn't you agree? And in that time, can you name one instance in which I have ever been anything other than competent and thorough?"

"We dated once, that was pretty incompetent on your end," you joke.

"I dated that one too," she gestures at Karkat. 

"My point stands."

"Hey! what does that make you?" Karkat snaps.

"We all know I'm an idiot, babe."

Terezi claps her hands. Even Dirk pauses his quiet exploration to look at her.

"My point was, not only will my paperwork be legally sound adoption papers obtained through entirely legitimate means, it will be so watertight that you'll both forget you found this on your porch. Technically, in troll law this is standard procedure for grubs found without lusi, and Karkles is a troll, so there _ is _ legal precedent."

You don’t know shit about the law, but you feel hope swell in your chest. Could it really be that easy?

Dirk had crawled her way and was now pulling himself up to stand by her leg. He surveyed the papers before becoming engrossed by Terezi's cane. You scoop him up quickly before he could discover how to separate it into the two swords you know it hides.

"It's funny, I never thought you two would end up with a kid. But I think you'll both be great caretakers, assuming Dave doesn't give him a skateboard or something for his first birthday," she says with a cackle.

The very idea stresses you out. 

"I'm going to speed this up as much as I can so you can get orange sorbet over here to a human doctor as soon as possible," she says, collecting her papers into a folder with a practiced flourish. You can see the legal gears turning in her mind. Karkat sees her out and you're left with Dirk, who manages to look somewhat saddened by Terezi, a stranger he has now seen once for an hour, leaving. 

You can relate.

Everything is happening so fast, and it catches up with you all of a sudden as Dirk pulls himself to his wobbling feet and holds your hands for support. You found this kid yesterday and now you and Karkat are on the fast track to legally adopting him. It has barely been twenty four hours. The absurdity and responsibility crash into you and you can feel your chest get tight. You feel yourself freeze. You can't take care of a kid, you're going to fuck him up and leave him just like you, afraid and without a guardian-

Karkat comes back in then and notices your distress in an instant. He sits beside you, Dirk crawling into his lap quickly. He starts talking, to you or to Dirk you can't tell through the panicked static in your ears but it's something. Something else to hear, someone else beside you. 

"I'm going to fuck this up," you say.

"Now who's teaching him swears," Karkat says and bumps your shoulder with his. It's a quick comforting touch, not too overwhelming too soon but enough to bring you back just a bit.

"This is so much, Kar. Feels like I just learned to take care of myself and even then when's the last time I ate a meal that didn't somehow include mac and cheese? I'm thirty-five, yeah, that's a certified adult by any measure but that doesn't mean I'm not a moment away from- from… I don't even know. This is stupid."

It all rushes out so fast, both Karkat and Dirk are looking at you and you can't meet their eyes, though you don't feel any judgment from them.

"If we found Dirk five, ten years ago, I think we would have had to call the goddamn cops first thing because we were both still in the process of learning not to be wrecks," Karkat says slowly. "It doesn't feel like we're much older than our past selves, like we're still so fucking close to becoming what we were, or a misstep away from the shitty people we once thought we'd become."

He shakes his head. "But we're fine. We've grown beyond how we were raised, beyond what others expected of us or what we expected from ourselves. We're still growing. You're doing fine. Listen, you are going to fuck up.  _ I'm _ going to fuck up. But nothing you do to Dirk will leave him alone and afraid and unloved. We're going to be there for him, and us for each other, and we're going to raise this child so loved he'll never be able to imagine the shit we went through."

"Fa," Dirk said.

"He's so close to his first word being fuck," you say. Karkat narrows his eyes and you sigh. "I'm afraid, man. This is so much responsibility and yet every part of me still wants this. I would do anything for this kid, do you know how fucking terrifying that is considering we met yesterday?"

"I know, me too," Karkat says. "Our whole world got turned on its head in an instant-"

"Got flip-turned upside down?"

"-And now we're legal guardians, Dave. Legal guardians don't deflect with dated references."

"This one does. It's easier than saying you're right, and that I know we're both afraid but even knowing we're afraid doesn't change a single damn thing."

"Yeah," Karkat says, and Dirk takes his hand and begins gnawing on his finger. "I wouldn't change a single fucking thing."

And neither would you. You know who you are, and who you'll be for Dirk.

"To-do list," Karkat says in his best no-nonsense tone, "Pediatrician first, then the store where we get a shit-ton of kid stuff, then we get fast food on the way home because like hell either of us will feel like cooking after all that."

"Sounds like a plan," you say. It's been a week since Dirk was left on your doorstep, and true to her word Terezi got you the absolutely legal and legitimate adoption papers in record time, all notarized and official and shit. You and Karkat are fathers in the eyes of the law. 

You can still hardly believe it. 

Dirk is adjusting nicely. He slept well, he spent most of his waking hours in yours or Karkat's arms and the rest exploring with someone trailing him all the while. He was kind of quiet for a baby you reckon, but he didn't seem sad or hurt or anything. 

You worry nonetheless that something made him quiet, those mysterious caretakers that left him for you. You're eager to get him to the doctor. 

Rose had given you a spare car seat and Dirk settled in, absolutely entranced by the view out the window. Karkat drives carefully normally, but now he seems to stick ten under the speed limit with his head on a constant swivel. 

"You good up there?" you ask from the back seat.

"Fantastic," he says tightly. "If any of these fuckers makes a wrong move I'll be ready."

"Damn right."

"Ra," Dirk added.

The doctor delivers only good news. Dirk is a healthy eight month old, putting his birthday in early December, and about average for his age in development. Thankfully he is fully vaccinated, which you're thankful for because you're not sure you could have sat in the room while he got poked with needles. He doesn't have any physical health conditions aside from an ocular light sensitivity similar to your own. It sucks, but is manageable. You'll get the lil dude some sick-ass shades and he'll be fine.

You head to the store feeling bolstered by the good news, right up until Dirk is strapped into the shopping cart. He whines and strains against the seatbelt.

"I can sit in the car with him while you run in," Karkat offers nervously.

You look at Dirk, who looks around the foyer of the supermarket and you can almost see the radial blur as he takes it all in. You know he's not even a year old yet and yet you duck close to his face and speak casually.

"Hey lil dude, I know this place is packed and all and if you wanna go chill in the car with Karkat that's totally cool," you start, and Dirk watches you intently, not quite as agitated. "But let's try this out, learning experience for all of us. Lemme tell you kid, they got the goods in here."

"I think if we keep talking to him, he'll be fine," says Karkat. It already seems to have worked, Dirk is looking around curiously as opposed to fearfully. 

"Good thing neither of us ever shut up," you say with a grin, and begin pushing the cart.

It's far more domestic than you could ever have anticipated. Obviously you and Karkat have gone shopping before and that felt weirdly exciting for the longest time too, the novelty of doing something mundane with someone who made each day interesting.

That feeling was turned up to eleven with Dirk.

"Alright kiddo, we gettin' Fruit Loops or Cheerios?" you ask, pointing at each box. Dirk makes a decisive sound as you point to the Fruit Loops.

"Fuck yes, finally someone with good taste," Karkat says, earning a few glances from passersby and a very pointed frown from you that he returns mockingly. You hold out a fist to Dirk, who slaps your hand. Close enough. 

"Apple juice? Yeah? Of course," you say, putting both juice boxes and gallon jugs into the cart.

Karkat narrows his eyes. "We have apple juice at home."

"This is for the kid, " you explain, and Dirk slaps the cart handle as if for emphasis. Karkat rolls his eyes and adds orange and grape juice to the cart as well.

You head down the baby aisle, grab probably more diapers and wipes than you need, and stop in front of the baby food.

"This is food?" Karkat asks incredulously. The paste inside is a grayish brown, and its label proudly reads "roast beef and potato". You highly fucking doubt it tastes anything like food.

Dirk gets antsy again and you pick two at random. 

"Alright uh, strawberry puree oooor… carrot?" you ask him. He looks distressed at both options and vocalizes his displeasure. 

"He has to eat something," Karkat says. "Let's just get one of each and figure it out when we get home."

"Sounds good. What do you think, Dirk, a whole-ass smorgasbord of mashed delights?"

He continues to look displeased. This calls for drastic measures. 

"Think we can take a side trip?" you ask Karkat, who shrugs.

You steer the cart toward the toys, the holy grail of useless junk that you still, as an adult, find yourself wandering every so often.

Maybe you bought one of those soulless-eyed vinyl figures once or twice, purely ironically. Who's to say? You'll never tell, and Karkat is too full of secondhand embarrassment to rat you out to anyone.

"Okay Dirk, let's go nuts."

Karkat immediately shoots down you trying to buy Dirk a foam Minecraft sword and Nerf gun. This is highly unfair but you solemnly promise Dirk you'll be back for the prize when Karkat is out of earshot.

Dirk smiles at you as if he understands the concept of mischief, and you just about melt onto the tile floor.

You exit the toy department with Dirk drooling all over a plush bird. The cart is full of toys, a very random assortment of things that seemed to grab his attention: lots of shiny metallic toys, a pony plush or three, one of those kiddie laptops meant to teach numbers and letters.

Karkat pushes ahead to the furniture section, quickly picks out a real crib and some plastic toddler furniture with rounded edges and an eye-searing neon color palette, and then you're in the checkout lane. Dirk is getting cranky again and this time you can hardly blame him nor distract him. People look at you disapprovingly as Dirk starts bawling before you get to the cashier. 

"I'm gonna take him out to the car, you got this?" you ask. The cart is stacked high and Karkat, though large, isn't a weightlifter by any means, but he waves you off. You unbuckle Dirk to his immediate relief and walk out of the bright, overwhelming store.

It's a cool spring evening and you hold Dirk close as you walk to the car. He settles into his carseat and you let him take ownership of your hand. 

It's so quiet aside from the occasional starting of cars that you can hear his breath, the tired little babbles he mutters as he gnaws the side of your hand.

"Y'know," you start, because silence has never been your comfort zone, "This really is a fucking wild situation we're in. I mean like, legally I think I should've just called someone with authority. You should've been processed by the government and all that shit. But someone specifically trusted Karkat and I. Is it because we're gay married? Is this someone's way of sticking it to the straights because it's a weird fucking flex considering we could've just adopted a kid the old fashioned way. Not that we would have I guess. And any other kid wouldn't've been you. That's the crux of it I think, it's like you're supposed to be our kid.  _ Only you can take care of Dirk _ , that note said, and I dunno how they knew that or if I still entirely believe it but… who else could it have been, right? We have money, we have a lawyer on our side, we have extended family who're gonna fuckin' love you as much as Kar and I already do. Maybe someone else has more experience, more planning or more… whatever. It's not like people don't have unplanned kids all the damn time though. And me and Karkat were absolutely fuckin' ready to drop everything for you, and goddamnit I still am. I just hope I'm a good… dad."

You watch the gentle rise and fall of Dirk's chest as he sleeps, your hand grasped in his tiny ones. You can feel his steady heartbeat and warmth.

Karkat opens the door as quietly as possible. 

"Dave are you… crying?"

Dirk spends one more night in the folding crib in your room before he wakes you both up early. You give him formula and watch him like a hawk as he figures out the complexities of Fruit Loops. He eats more than he throws on the floor so you and Karkat consider that a win.

After that, it's down to work. The room next to your shared bedroom was an office once, but it's about to be whipped into a whole new shape filled with garish tiny furniture and more plushies than a toddler could drool all over in a year.

For a moment you entertain the thought that you're spoiling Dirk, but quickly decide that does not fucking matter. 

It doesn't take long for the office things to be moved into the guest bedroom and filed away as a problem for another time.

Dirk watches, bird plush in hand, from a playpen as you and Karkat study the instructions for the crib. It should be easy to assemble, it's a lot of parts but the instructions are clear enough. 

You realize quickly why hubris is man's greatest sin. Not to be dramatic but you consider calling someone else to put this piece of shit together because not only is it tedious, it's difficult. 

"No, fuck, that's the bottom piece," Karkat points out.

"Then why the hell does it fit here?" you groan.

Karkat studies the instructions again. Dirk yells something you hope is encouragement but could easily be interpreted as a taunt.

"I think it's supposed to be basically the same piece but one side is the top and the other is the bottom," he says eventually. 

"You sure?"

"No! I'm not," he snaps, "This crib was made by demons and sold by Satan specifically to torture me personally."

"That's a really long gambit on the devil's part to get you from a dude who's never even seen a crib before to here."

Karkat's face cracks into a smile. "No way in hell Dirk's a demonspawn. Not saying he's an angel or anything but he's probably one of the best things that's ever happened."

"Yeah," you say softly. "Makes this IKEA hell puzzle worthwhile, huh?"

"I guess," he huffs, and you nudge him affectionately. He trills at you in that odd and endearing way trolls do, and you both get back to work.

When the crib is built you immediately worry about whether or not you built it correctly. If it collapsed suddenly while Dirk was asleep-

You climb into the crib. You're pretty lanky so it'll probably be fine. Karkat still screeches like an angry bird but at least you know for sure it's safe.

Now all that's left is the kid furniture. A table for whatever important tabletop business Dirk would need to attend to, two small chairs, and a bench. It's all plastic and easily snapped together and you wonder why you didn't start with this.

The final touch is the bins of toys you and Karkat quickly free everything from their packaging and toss neatly into the containers. There's so fucking much packaging to contend with it's unreal. 

Finally, the moment of truth arrives. Karkat picks Dirk up and hugs him quickly before setting him down on the floor. He looks up at Karkat, then to you, then makes a beeline for the table. As agile as a toddler could possibly be, he uses it to stand up on wobbling legs and look around from a new vantage point. 

"Look at him go!" you say, absolutely delighted. Karkat laughs gruffly and leans against you as you both watch Dirk discover his room.

You feel the concept of permanence settle over you. This is Dirk’s room, a place in your house as neat and new as his place in your heart. Absolutely cheesy but true nonetheless. Dirk is your son now, Karkat’s son, and he’ll never know the loneliness of a room that isn’t quite his, a family that insisted on a last name basis and relied on temporary smiles, or hands quicker than words.

He only cries for a moment when you settle him down in his crib that night. Exploring tired him out and you're thankful because putting everything together exhausted both you and Karkat.

Still, leaving Dirk whining in his room alone felt extremely bad for a bit. Only after you ducked your head in to see him sound asleep did the guilt subside.

"He really is ours, huh?" Karkat says once you're in your room. He's already laying in bed, watching you get into pajamas with unabashed affection.

"He is, he really fucking is," you say with a laugh. "We made it to fatherhood level, can you believe it?"

"Hell no," he snorts. "It's a lot. But a good a lot. I love him to pieces and that's a lot of intense emotion to feel towards someone so tiny and fragile, still not entirely convinced that I won't mess him up somehow." 

Vulnerability crosses his face, and you drop into bed next to him. "Feel that," you say. "Maybe that fear will make us better parents."

"Or helicopter parents," he says disdainfully.

"Oh fuck, you would be the funniest overbearing PTA dad," you laugh. "You're damn right Deborah, my son can and will beat your kid's ass at soccer, why don't you cry to Karen about it?"

"Jesus fucking Christ," Karkat says, covering his face. "If I ever have to talk to someone named Deborah I'll leave society all together for good. That's the end for me, I'm embracing the plight of my ancestors and living in a fucking cave."

"They got cribs in there?"

Karkat laughs, loud and sudden, and you shush him through your own laughter. You rest your tired head on Karkat's chest and listen to his bloodpusher do its thing, a touch slower and heavier than a human heart but comforting.

"Love you, Kar," you say, letting tiredness wash over you. 

"I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed, please leave a comment! i'm still very much quarantined and out of work so my passion for writing is slowly building back up to combat the rising tide of boredom, but comments and feedback will help that more than you can possibly imagine
> 
> edit: there's some wonderful fanart for this fic now!! [check it out!](https://sumyna.tumblr.com/post/616692737022017536)


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